


Origin Stories: Hare

by FormulaFerrari



Series: Alternate Universe - Tame Racing Drivers [15]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 18,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9878138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: In an AU where a secret species is used as Racing Drivers, most Drivers have a story about how they met their match.The story of Mitch Evans and how he got/met his Racing Driver; Hare





	1. 1998 – Red Bull Nursing Stable

He didn’t understand it. He’d been with the other kids for ages. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t living with the other kids. He liked the other kids; they were fun and they played lots of games together. He wanted to stay with them; they were his friends and he enjoyed their company.

But that didn’t seem to be happening. For the first time since he was born, he wasn’t allowed to stay with his friends and he wasn’t allowed to stay with his mum. He felt scared and alone. He wanted someone to come with him and hold his hand and tell him it would all be OK. If he had had the chance, he would have asked the people who had a tight hold on his arms and were marching him away from the place he had always known as home.

He looked back over his shoulder as he was taken outside the building. The sunshine was bright as it beat against his helmet. He remembered playing in the sun with his friends, how nice and warm the sun had felt on his skin as they lay around on the grass and watched the clouds rush across the sky. Now it felt oppressing. Wrapped up in his helmet and his jumpsuit he was getting too hot. The sun was as ruthless and cruel as the men dragging him towards a van.

 _Mummy!_ He called, searching through all the minds he could feel. She had to be there somewhere. She had always been close to him. Always there to pick him up whenever he fell over or to rock him back to sleep if he had had a scary dream. She wouldn’t leave him now, not when he needed her the most. _Mummy, please!_

_I am here, Fast, Sleek Entity_

_Mummy, where am I going?_ He asked, his voice wobbling in fear as he tried to fight back the tears. He felt warmth fill his mind; warmth he knew as his mother’s.

_You are being taken to another stable, my love. One where you will train and grown up to be strong and the best Racing Driver there is._

_Are you coming too?_ He asked, being forced into the back of the van. He felt a shudder of cold as the doors were slammed and the sunlight was taken away, leaving his eyes to try and adjust to the darkness that was now surrounding him.

 _I must stay here, my treasured foal._ His mother returned in a sad tone. He felt more tears rising in his throat.

_I don’t want to leave! I want to stay here with you and my friends!_

_You must go, sweet one, you will be cared for just as well at your new home._

_But I don’t want to go!_ He began struggling against the handlers that were trying to strap him to the side of the van. Tried pushing desperately to get back to the doors and get them open. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to say goodbye to his mother. He wanted to stay right where he was. He was happy here. He could grow up strong and be the best Racing Driver there was from right here. This facility was his home and he didn’t want to leave it. _Mummy!_

_Do not fight, little one, you must go peacefully._

_I don’t want to-!_

_-Please, my love. Do as they want. They will only hurt you._ Still snivelling, the sound of an engine trying and failing to start, he stopped fighting and allowed the handlers to force him back against the wall. _I will always love you my hardest; Fast, Sleek Entity_. His mother promises. He held onto her words tightly.

 _I don’t want to be alone…_ He whimpered as one of his sleeves was pushed back. He gripped tightly to his mother in his mind as something sharp pricked the inside of his arm. It hurt, but it was followed by a feeling of drowsiness. _Mumma…?_

_You will never be alone, my darling. I will always love you…_

He lost the connection to his mother as everything went dark and he slumped against the wall.


	2. 1998 – Ferrari Young Driver Race Training Stable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, a few characters need naming so you know who they are:
> 
> The Hard Ridge Of A Cliff - Daniil Kvyat's Racing Driver  
> Crackling With Energy - Carlos Sainz's Racing Driver  
> The Epitome Of Proudness - Brendon Hartley's Racing Driver  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A sudden loud noise woke him abruptly. It was still completely dark inside what he thought was the van, and he had no concept of where he was or how long he had been sleeping. He tried to rub his eyes only to discover his hands were stuck by his sides. It caused him to panic as he tried to fight against the thick straps with his little body, his mind reaching out.

 _Mummy?_ He called, unable to locate her in the mix of minds he didn’t recognise. _Mummy!_ He was really starting to panic now. He didn’t know where he was or where any of his friends were. He didn’t know anything about this place he had found himself in and he just wanted him mummy. _MUMMY!_

[Calm down, Little Racing Driver] a handler gestured in front of him. He was breathing heavily, his chest raising and falling at an alarming rate as he emitted a high-pitched engine purr, the sound an engine would make just before it broke down. [You are OK. We are at your new home.]

[I want my mummy!] He gestured frantically, still trying to break away from the tight straps across his body.

[Your mummy isn’t here now. You’re at your new home. Would you like to see?]

[No!] Like a stubborn toddler he resisted the handlers. He didn’t want to be somewhere new. He wanted his home and his friends. He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to them.

[I think you’ll like it here] The handler gestured, their body language making the signs cheerful. He didn’t care; he wasn’t happy he was here at all. He deduced a plan to make a run for it as soon as they loosened the bands holding him to the side of the van. That plan was floored as soon as the handler’s got near him and locked tight grips on his arms once more. [Don’t want you running off now.] The handler gestured happily. He sunk back against the wall, gesturing over and over again for his mother.

He was forced to stop as the van doors were opened and a bright light filled the van. It hurt his eyes and he had to throw his hands over them to protect them; his visor no match for the sudden brightness that was filling the space. The handlers took the oppurtuity to get him out of the van with as little fight from the little Racing Driver as possible. Before he knew it he was inside a big building, light filling the room from the big wide windows that overlooked the area. He looked out the window at the landscape, in awe of what he saw. He’d never seen anything quite as spectacular as the view. He could see for miles and miles out into the sunny day.

This most certainly was not home anymore.

[Come along, we will show you where you sleep.]

There was a heavy sense of red in the building. If the doors weren’t red then they at least has aspects of red on them. Every sign above or beside a door had two lines of the squiggly human text that he couldn’t read. Back home there was only one like. He wondered why there would be a need for two.

[We will talk you to where all the other little Racing Drivers are. You will live there until you are old enough to move into the stables.] The handler who was walking in front of him gestured. He revved nervously. He just wanted to go home. [The Young Stable has many other Racing Driver’s around your age. There is also a training track where you can perfect your racing skills.] The handler enthused.

[When can I go home?] He asked as he was lead into a moving box. The sunlight was taken away as the box began to lower.

[This is your home now.] The handler said with a sweet tone. He frowned. No, this was not home.

[I want to go home to my mummy and my friends. I miss them.] He explained, hoping this would clear things up. The handler turned to face his straight on, their body language serious.

[This is your home now. You will no longer see your mother or your old friends because they are not here. You live here with your new friends.] The tone changed back to the happy, excited tone that would be used to speak to a child. [They’re so excited to meet you!]

His feet stumbled as the handlers tried to walk him out of the box that had brought them downstairs. He would never see his mother or friends again? He would never play with Crackling With Energy, hear The Hard Ridge Of A Cliff’s jokes, or sing with The Epitome Of Proudness again. That made him extremely sad to learn. Why had he been taken away from his friends and family? Why did he have to go away when they got to stay at home? He wanted to curl into a ball but the handlers who had his arms wouldn’t let him. Instead they forced him forwards.

[Now, this is your room,] the handler gestured, opening up a door on the right of the corridor. He gave it a half glance before dropping his head again. A soft click indicated that the door had been closed. [Why don’t you come and meet everyone else, yeah? They’re all out on the track. Would you like to have a race?] He just kept his head down, not answering their questions. He wanted to go home and race with his friends, not race with these other kids that he didn’t know.

But once again, he was not given a choice in the matter. The handlers were forcing him further down the corridor and not allowing him to go and hide in his room. He didn’t feel very sociable at the moment. He just wanted to sit and try and reach for his mother. She couldn’t be that far away, could she?

A whistle was blown as he was walked into the training area, and all the go-karts that were circling on track came to a stop. The other little Racing Drivers who had been waiting around the edge of the circuit turned to look towards the door. He tried to hide behind the handlers a bit as he felt all of them looking towards him, each reaching out towards his mind.

[Everyone, this is a new little Racing Driver who has come to live with us. Treat him as you would treat each other and be kind to him. He will be staying with us from now on.] The handler smiled, gesturing to all the little faces turned her way. He tried to hide behind her again as the other handlers let go of him but she stepped to the side, turning to him. [How about you go on track with the next round of Racing Drivers? Sound like fun?] Again, he kept looking at the floor, his hands tangling together in gestures he was too nervous to spell out clearly. Unable to understand him, the handlers moved off, leaving him to stand in front of all of the other little Racing Drivers. He wanted his mother’s hand to hold. He didn’t like all the attention he was getting. He didn’t want to be here and have everyone staring at him and trying to feel in his mind. He wanted The Epitome of Proudness to break the tension that was growing with one of his bizarre comments.

 _Hi!_ In shock, he pushed the voice out of his head, taking a retreating step backwards towards the door. His eyes fixed on the little Racing Driver that was rushing towards him, his hands in a surrendering gesture. [Sorry.]

[You scared me.] He admitted, his back now pressed against the door. The little Racing Driver, in a red helmet and race suit, moved closer to him, holding his hand out in a friendship gesture.

[Sorry.] He said bashfully. [I’m The Track In The Wilderness] The Racing driver gestured proudly. He pushed himself off the door.

[A Fast, Sleek Entity] He gestured nervously, his hands shaking a little. The other little Racing Driver sent him the warmth of happiness. It was nice. He let him into his mind contently.

_Sorry I startled you. The others have said I can be a bit too forward._

_It’s OK._ He returned, feeling a little more confortable. The little Racing Driver was no Crackling With Energy but he was a nice reminder of his friend.

 _Come and meet everyone!_ The red smiled, holding his hand out. He looked at it with trepidations. _We don’t bite!_

 _OK…_ He said slowly, taking the other little boy’s hand. With a bright smile, he was dragged towards the track where the other little Racing Driver’s were convened. Those on the track had gotten back to lapping around the circuit.

 _You’ll love everyone! They’re really nice – it’s like a big family._ The red enthused, taking him over to the little croud.

Family. This was his new family now and he was going to have to get used to it.


	3. 2003 – Ferrari Young Driver Race Training Stable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, a few characters need naming so you know who they are:
> 
> The Track In The Wilderness - Jules Bianchi's Racing Driver  
> Slick As Ice - Esteban Gutierrez's Racing Driver  
> Here Is Where I Stand - Will Stevens Racing Driver  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - -

_Bye!_

_Don’t forget us!_

_We’ll see you soon!_

He moved away with the rest of the little Racing Drivers, heading towards their sleeping quarters after waving off another Racing Driver. It seemed like that was all they were doing nowadays. Every day another one of them seemed to be disappearing to the other red building they could see out of one of the high windows. He didn’t know where the older driver’s were disappearing off to. He always wondered, wondered if he would go there too.

 _Track, where do they go?_ He asked, catching up to the red Racing Driver that he’d become good friends with since he moved here five years ago. They had grown up together and he saw Track as a brother figure. He always made him happy whenever he was sad. And in his first few months living here Track had helped him not be so homesick and tried to make him feel better when he missed his friends and his family from back home.

 _They’re going to the main stables._ Track explained. _That’s where we go to meet our Matches._

 _Matches?_ He queried. He’d never heard of them before but the way Track said it made them sound special.

 _They’re a human who talks to you and comes and looks after you._ Track’s tone was love-filled, painting the matches in a romantic light. He thought about this; having someone to come and take care of him and play with him and tell him jokes.

 _I want one!_ He cheered, gripping Track’s arm tightly. _How do I get one?_

_The matches get given to you. One day the handlers come along and they take you off to meet your match._

_I’ve heard they look just like us!_ Here Is Where I Stand chipped in, squeezing between him and Track.

 _That’s just a rumour._ Slick As Ice said, falling into step beside Track. _And I’ve heard some matches aren’t nice because they don’t want to race._

 _Who wouldn’t want to race?!_ Here exclaimed, shock and confusion coating his words. He thought about this, what if his match didn’t want to race? What if his match didn’t want him?

 _What happens if they don’t want to race?_ He asked, worry in his words. Track hooked him under his arm.

 _All you have to do is show your match how great you are round the track; they’d be crazy to not want to race with you!_ Track smiled brightly. It made him feel a little better.

 _You’ve heard Mancha at night…_ Slick said sadly. He frowned; who was Mancha? He’d never heard Mancha.

_Who’s-?_

_It doesn’t matter. Don’t listen to Slick._ Track said calmly, ruffling His hair. He flattened it down, getting that feeling again that his friend’s were hiding something from him. With him being the youngest out of them all (he was nine whilst they were all about eleven) they sometimes didn’t tell him stuff or told him he was too young and he’d find out when he was older. It really annoyed him sometimes. _Come on, let’s go and practice on the track!_

 _Yeah, we can kick Slick’s butt and prove to him that matches are the greatest!_ Here grinned, hitting Slick’s arm in jest as he dashed down the corridor. The other three boys rushed after him.

 _No way, I’m SO going to be fastest!_ Slick smiled smugly. Track scoffed at him.

_Nu uh, you all have to look out for me!_

_I’m going to be faster than all of you and show you that the younger the better!_ He added gleefully, rushing ahead of Here and moving through the door first. As he got their first, he got to pick his kart first. He’d practiced on this track enough; he knew exactly which kart would give him the best results.


	4. 2010 – Ferrari Race Training Stable

He woke up in shock as he was pulled out of his cupboard. His instant reaction was to fight, to get free and to get away from these people. What were they doing? Why were they here? Why was he being pulled out of his bed? What the hell was going on?!

He tried to push from their hold but it seemed pointless. He’d just gotten one off him when another grabbed his arm from behind, twisting it up against his back. He yelled out, revving in anger and pain as he was pushed forwards by two other handlers.

There was a lot of human shouting going on that he couldn’t understand. He wished they would start gesturing so he could know what was happening. This wasn’t right. Something wasn’t normal. He had watched many Racing Drivers taken out of the stables and none of them that he could remember were this rough. He’d been living in the main stables for about two years now. That was long enough. He knew something wasn’t right.

 _Track! Slick! Here!_ He yelled, trying to reach for his friends. There were all around, somewhere. They were all in their sleeping quarters. He knew that. He just had to find where they were. With everything going on around him he was finding it hard to concentrate.

 _Grad!_ He called, desperately reaching for his lead stallion. Why wasn’t anyone talking to him? Making sure he was OK? _Anyone please!_

 _Fast, Sleek, are you alright?_ Relief sored through him as his lead stallion entered his mind.

_Grad, I don’t know what’s happening. The handlers are taking me somewhere!_

_Where? What is happening?_ There was concern in the lead stallion’s voice. He closed his eyes, letting his lead stallion see what he could see.

 _I’m outside…_ He reported, still trying to fight against the arms that had hold of him.

 _That’s a transport van._ Grad pointed out. He scuffled his feet, trying to get back inside. He’d been in one before. He didn’t want to be moved again.

_Grad! Stop them!_

_I am powerless against the handlers, Fast, I’m sorry…_

_Where am I going?!?_ He yelled, screaming his head off as he tried to fight away from the handlers. He just wanted to know where he was going. He just wanted to understand why he was being dragged out in the middle of the night.

_Hold on, Fast. I will try and find out._

_WAIT!_ He felt his lead stallion leave his mind and suddenly felt very alone. But he had been told to wait, so he had to find a way to wait until Grad came back. Kicking out hard, he managed to pull a couple of the handlers to the ground and slip out of their hold. He made a dash for it, pushing the last one off him as he sprinted towards the door he had just been dragged out of. _I’m waiting, Grad. Waiting right here. Just like you said._

He never made it to the door. Something sharp pricked into the back of his neck and before he knew it he was on the ground. He just about had enough energy to reach of the door, screaming to Grad that he would wait right here, before the handlers were on top of him and the muscle relaxant that had been shot into his neck rendered him motionless.

\- -

He was still fighting them. He’d come around in the van and tried to break out of his bonds against the side of the van but the handlers just left him to thrash against the wall like a fish out of water. As soon as the van had stopped and the handlers moved to release him he tried, again, to push away from them. They tackled him to the ground as they got out of the van, his attempt to run stalled by the fact there were more handlers around here; five of them had him pinned against the wall after he took two steps towards freedom.

He would have stop fighting them but he was scared. Once again he’d been moved to a completely different place and he had no idea where he was or why he was here. He just wanted to go back home to his friends. Why couldn’t he just be left in one place? He was just getting used to the ever-present red of the Ferrari stables. Now he had been shipped off God knows where.

They shoved him down the corridor and towards a room at the end of it. He gripped tightly to the door frame, trying to haul himself back out of the room so he could make another dash for freedom. Something hot and sharp hit his side as forced him to fall forwards, the tingly of electricity still felt like it was in his skin as he tried to curl up on the floor. He was brought back to his feet and shoved into a chair, one handler on each shoulder holding onto him tightly.

For a moment, he just sat, trying to regain his breath. He let his mind reach out to those Racing Driver he could feel were near him. Maybe by chance he would know one of them. Maybe one of them would open up to him and explain where he was and what was happening.

_A Fast, Sleek Entity. How I have missed you, my love._

His head shot up as he grabbed onto the mind he had found. He knew that was his mother. He would always remember her voice and her soft touch. He held onto her and refused to let go.

 _Mumma!_ He cried happily, holding onto her so tightly. She wrapped her arms around him, bringing him back home.

 _You are so big and strong! Look and how much you’ve grown!_ She praised, smothering him in love. He felt calmer on the instant. Just knowing she was close made him happier.

 _Mummy, I’m scared. Where am I? What is going on?_ He asked, curling closer into her embrace.

He was suddenly pushed off her, something putting a thick wall between her and him so he couldn’t reach her. _Mummy!_

 _You are not permitted to talk to our mares._ The voice was cold and not one he had heard before. He pushed against the wall with all his might, trying to make it budge but it was no hope. _Stop it._

_No! Please! Is my mare! I just need to talk-_

_-I said stop it. You are not allowed._ The voice repeated, pushing him far away from the wall. He tried to run back to it but it was like running at something that was forever getting further away. He tried with everything he had but he wasn’t getting any closer.

 _MUMMY!_ He screamed, physicalizing his attempts to get back to his mother as he fought against the handlers. He rushed to the door, pounding his fists on it in a hope that someone would open it up and let him out. He had to get to his mother; he _had_ to. His mother would keep him safe and explain what was going on and where he was. She would make him calm and feel safe. He had to get to her.

He was forced away from the door by the handlers and slammed onto his knees. Pain shot up his legs but it didn’t matter; he had to get to his mother. He tried to get back up but the handlers were holding him still now, all of their weight was being pushed into his shoulders. No matter how much he was trying to push them off they weren’t budging an inch. His determination tripled.

All the fight washed out of him as he felt someone pulling at the fastening of his helmet. His breath caught as he realised what was happening. This wasn’t just a random trip to some unknown place where they were going to try and hurt him. He realised, quickly, that this was his matching. His match was stood in front of him.

A new feeling spurred through him as he sat still. He remembered everything he had every been told about matches. How they looked after you and kept you safe and cared for you. He’d always wanted his own match. He’d seen other go off to matchings and come back feeling like they had found a new part of themselves. He wanted that; he wanted someone who would keep him safe.

He looked up at the light brown eyes that had fixed on his as his helmet was lifted off his head, hoping that his match would be everything he wanted and more.


	5. 2009 – Auckland, New Zealand

“Mitch! Get off that computer game and come down for dinner!” Mitch rolled his eyes, hitting pause on the racing game he had been playing. His mum, Tracee, had been yelling him down for dinner for the last five minutes but he just had a few laps until the end of the race. Why couldn’t she understand that he needed to keep up with his practice so that he was in the best condition when he finally got a real drive? Sure, it was only a game, but it was the closest thing to the real thing he could get at the moment.

“Coming!” Mitch called, biting his lip. He looked at the television screen. There were only two laps left. Could he just squeeze them in before dinner? He un-paused the game.

“Mitch! NOW!” freezing the game again Mitch headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He took his plate off the table in a swift motion that had him heading back out of the room.

“Thanks, Mum!” He called. He didn’t get very far.

“Just where do you think you’re going, young man.” She said sternly. Mitch sheepishly returned to the room.

“There are two more laps…?”

“No. Sit down.” She said, not even looking at him, as she took her own seat at the table. Mitch rolled his eyes, placing his plate back on the table.

“It’ll take me just a couple of-”

“-You can finish your game after dinner.” Mitch’s dad, Owen, interrupted, pointing at the vacant seat at the table. With a big sigh Mitch fell into his chair, poking at his dinner. “Why, thank you, Mum, for putting all this hard work into my dinner.” Owen said sarcastically as his youngest son started eating.

“’Hanks, mum.” Mitch said with his mouth full. His sister gave him a disgusted look.

“You’ve been doing well on the track, Mitch.” Owen started slowly. Mitch swallowed forcedly, looking at hia dad with wide eyes.

“Yeah, I know..” He said, setting down his fork.

“We don’t want to get your hopes up, sweetie.” Tracee added.

“But you have some news?” Mitch said, clear excitement in his voice.

“I’ve been in contact with someone in Europe,” Owen stared, having to stop as his son jumped to his feet.

“YOU GOT ME A DRIVE IN EUROPE?!” Mitch yelled. Owen held his hands up, encouraging his son to sit down.

“Not yet,” He said, pushing on Mitch’s shoulder so he sat back down. “But I’ve been talking to someone. They’re impressed with you.”

“They want to invite you out to see some Formula One, sweetheart.” Tracee said in a calm but excited voice.

“There is talk of an opportunity for you.” Owen finished. Mitch shook his head in disbelief.

“An opportunity… In a Formula One team?” He asked, his voice breathy.

“It sounds like it might be that way.” Owen nodded.

“He wants to meet you at the Australian Grand Prix. So if you want to go-”

“-Of course I do!” Mitch yelled, getting back to his feet. Tracee laughed lightly at him.

“We really think this is a fantastic opportunity for you, Mitch, and if it means moving to Europe we really think you should go.” Mitch’s head was spinning. This couldn’t possibly be happening. A Formula One driver had invited him to the Grand Prix and could have an opportunity for him in Europe?! His Formula One dream appeared to finally be getting closer.

\- -

It was only once he was sat on the plane ready to fly to Melbourne that everything hit him with a crisp clear realism. He was contemplating throwing everything away; his life, his friends, his family, all for what could be a lousy shot in Europe or a chance that never accumulated to anything. What was he doing? He was making great progress through his in-country series, putting together a brilliant race portfolio. Why was he flying around the World chasing potential opportunities that could account to nothing? This could just be a gigantic waste of money.

And why were his parents so keen for him to go? Was there something they weren’t telling him? Or maybe they were sending him off to the Grand Prix to remind him of how hard this all was. Maybe it wasn’t an opportunity for him but his parents telling him to give up on the racing thing and let it go as they didn’t think he’d ever attain his dream of being a Formula One World Champion.

They either had no faith in him and wanted him out from under their feet, or there was something they weren’t telling him. Mitch couldn’t think of any reason his parents would withhold information from him…

It was too late to make any other decisions now; he was on a plane and it was taking him to the Australian Grand Prix. That was all he had to think about now. He just had to enjoy the weekend and find out what this driver had to offer him, if there was any offer to be told about.

\- -

He was told that someone should be waiting for him in the departure lounge. But Mitch had been stood here for ten minutes now and no one had come and asked him if he was Mitch and welcomed him to whatever he was supposed to be doing here. He checked his watch again, sitting on his suitcase as he looked around the area. Everyone just seemed to be minding their own business. Maybe this was a complete set up. Maybe he was never supposed to get any further than the airport.

He was about to call his parents when someone tapped his shoulder.

“Sorry, mate, I must have missed you. You’re Mitch, right?” Mitch was in shock. Standing in front of him with a bit of card with the words “Mitch Evans” written on them in black sharpie was none other than Australian Formula One Driver Mark Webber. Mitch couldn’t speak. Mark sent him a small smile. “I’ll take that as a yes. Clearly you know who I am.” He held out his hand. Mitch shook it on autopilot. “How about you pick your chin off the floor and I’ll take your bag to the car, yeah?”

“O…OK…” Mitch half shrugged, half nodded, getting up off his bag. Mark sent him another smile.

“Your Dad said you’d be shocked.” Mark commented, walking towards the exit. Mitch had to pinch himself to know he wasn’t dreaming.

“You’ve been talking to my Dad…?” Mitch asked, his head spinning. Mark nodded.

“Yeah; I’ve been quite impressed with your racing.” He said casually. Mitch stopped walking, pressing his palms to the side of his head.

“You’ve been watching me race?!” Shock coated every one of Mitch’s words. He couldn’t process any of it.

“Yeah.” Mark smiled, leading him to the car. “We’ve got some things to discuss.”


	6. 2009 – Australian Grand Prix, Melbourne.

Mitch had been quiet for a very long time. Mark was looking at him with a concerned expression. He had hoped the young Kiwi would say something or react. He’d expected to have to tell Mitch to calm down and listen but he didn’t. Mitch had sat through his whole explanation with a look of shock on his face. Now he was just silent. Mark didn’t really know what to say.

“Let me get this straight,” Mitch said suddenly, startling Mark. “You don’t race?”

“No.” Mark said calmly. Mitch blinked slowly.

“Someone else races… For you?”

“He’s my Racing Driver.” Mark nodded again, glad Mitch had appeared to understand what he had said. Mitch shook his head, dropping his face into his hands.

“So you have a look-a-like racing for you?” Mitch was appalled; Mark could tell. Clearly he hadn’t understood at all.

“He’s not a look-a-like.” Mark stressed. “He’s… Well he’s like me, part of me…”

“But he races the car?”

“Yeah.”

“And you take the credit?”

“No, Mitch, it’s not like that at all.” Mark sighed. Mitch waved his hand at him to silence him.

“And you mean to tell me that I don’t have a choice? There is one of these things that looks like me so I have to buddy with him?”

“He’s not a thing.” Mark said, slightly ruffled.

“Mum and Dad think they’ve sent me out here to talk to you about a real racing opportunity-”

“-This is a real opportunity-”

“-When in actuality its so I can sign up to some weird scheme that means I never race a car again and some thingy gets to do it for me? I’m signing up to be a puppet that talks?”

“Your parents already know all this, Mitch.” Mark said, a little harshly. Mitch wass stunned into silence again.

“… What?” He all but whispered. Mark folded his arms.

“Your parents know all this. They’ve been offered a lot of money for you. Well, you’ve been offered a lot of money for this. Red Bull have already been talking to them about it.”

“That’s why they were so desperate for me to come…” Mitch couldn’t believe it.

“Red Bull have a Racing Driver that looks like you. If you ever want a shot in Formula One you have to sign that contract. Then he races under your name.”

“And you’re here as a reason why I should sign?” Mitch spat, anger getting the better of him. He was an amazing racing driver and now he was being asked to give up on everything for some thing to take his place? No fucking way. He wouldn’t do it.

“No, not at all.” Mark said confidently. “I’m here to tell you what Red Bull never would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitch growled, falling back in his chair moodily.

“Red Bull would try and persuade you to do this, have your signature on the contract before you even knew what you’d signed up for. Then you’d be financially blackmailed to do what they wanted anyway. Trust me, Mitch, I’ve seen it happen enough times.” Mitch scoffed at him. “I have. They’ll put everything on a silver plate for you and just when you think you’re going to get all you want they give you your Racing Driver instead.”

“That what happen to you?” Mitch asked bitterly.

“No. They manipulated me a little differently.”

“How so?”

“Not important.” Mark brushed away. “If you want to know the truth, here.” Pulling his wallet out of his pocket, Mark handed Mitch a business card. Mitch took it with a small frown, reading the name _Christian Horner_ across the middle in golden letters, the Red Bull logo in the top corner. “I’m supposed to have just given you this, made you all excited because you think that Red Bull are going to offer you a seat. Then you’ll sign a contract and a few years down the line, if not sooner, Horner will call you into his office and tell you someone else will be racing with your name.”

“Then why have you told me all this? Of course I’m not going to sign that contract. The only person racing with my name is me.” Mitch said sharply, throwing the card back at Mark. Mark picked it off the floor, holding it out to Mitch.

“If you don’t sign, the Racing Driver will be killed. Then you’ll get a bill from Red Bull for the cost of losing them a potential profitable stock.” Mark was being cleanly blunt. Mitch almost respected him for that.

“Can’t they find someone else to buddy with this thing?!” He just wanted to race, why was that being taken away from him?

“He’s a Racing Driver.” Mark pushed. “And no. He looks like you. Red Bull need you to pair with him.”

“Surely then I’m more valuable to Red Bull.” Mitch said cockily.

“I guess, until they give up trying to persuade you. Then they’ll kill the Racing Driver and you’ll-”

“-Get the bill.” Mitch bit, ripping the card from Mark’s hand. “You made your point.”

“I’m telling you this so you go in with your eyes open. Like isn’t nice for Racing Drivers. It’s a load of shit. You need to know that so you’re prepared for what you’re getting yourself into.”

“So that’s it? I phone this number and I never race again?” Mitch spat, glaring at the card in his hand. Mark shrugged.

“Think about the poor Racing Driver. He’s innocent in all this, and they’re going to force him to match with you just so he can stay alive.” Mitch didn’t have a response to that. Mark had a far off look on his face for a moment, as if he was trying to listen to something far away. He nodded his head before turning back to Mitch. “I have to go get ready. Come down to the garage half an hour before the pit lane opens and I’ll introduce you to Christian.”

It was weird for Mitch to know the mechanic stood next to him was Mark Webber, yet be watching Mark Webber pull his helmet on and climb into the car. He looked down the grid, knowing that at least two mechanics in each team were actually the drivers that were supposedly in the cars. It completely blew his mind. All this time he’d been idolising what he thought were men, but what were really these Racing Driver people. Mitch wasn’t sure he could ever get used to that.


	7. 2010 – Red Bull Race Training Facility

The training had been hard. Mitch was quite glad that he had had Mark to go back to and ask about certain things. He had been staying with Mark whilst he was over here training to be able to take care of his Racing Driver, his training split up with him still racing back in New Zealand. He may not be racing after he’d matched with his Racing Driver but it would have been odd for him to disappear from the racing scene for two years and then come back in a Red Bull seat. He had to keep the illusion alive.

It was during the winter break that he was called to the stables. He’d been sat outside the room they had told him to wait by for a long time, so long he was starting to wonder if everything was all right. Mitch kept glancing around at the door, waiting for the knock to sound from within it. Maybe they had already knocked and he had missed it? He got to his feet, washing his hands together as he waited. No, if they had already knocked and he hadn’t come in they would have knocked again.

Three sharp thuds caused Mitch to flinch, but without giving himself a second to think he rushed forwards, pulling the door open. He was shocked to see the blue-clad Racing Driver thrashing around the room, appearing to be fighting to get to the door at the back of the room. Mitch closed his door behind him, looking at the Driver and trying to work out the best way to go in for this. He didn’t seem to be still enough to be able to get his helmet off, let alone make and hold eye contact with him.

Throwing caution to the wind, Mitch joined in the tussle to try and get his Racing Driver still. He held him on the chair whilst two of the handlers forced the Racing Driver’s arms behind his back so he couldn’t push away from them. A strangled engine noise poured from underneath the helmet, not sounding too healthy. Mitch took the chance to hold onto the helmet of his Racing Driver, one hand already unfastening the strap under his chin.

 _It’s OK, I’m just here to help you._ Mitch thought. He didn’t know whether it worked or not but his Racing Driver suddenly sat very still. Mitch took it as a good sign. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the blue helmet off the Racing Driver to reveal a boy who liked identical to him. Apart from his light grey eyes. Mitch was breath taken with his eyes; it was so bizarre that this boy could look identical to him but for one thing that made him look so different.

He locked eyes with the Racing Driver and held his eye contact. He knew how important it was for him to not look away first. How it could potentially kill him if he didn’t let the Racing Driver look away first. If he died they would definitely kill his Racing Driver. Mitch was determined for that not to happen.

But it wasn’t easy. He could feel something going on in his head. It felt like his brain was being pushed to the edges of his skull. It wasn’t painful but uncomfortable. His instinct was to close his eyes against the feeling, press his hand to his temple. But he couldn’t. He could not look away first. For his own wellbeing and for the well being of the Racing Driver that could have easily passed as his identical twin. He felt his eyes watering but pushed through it.

It was only when a gentle finger was brushing the tears off his cheek that he realised it was over. He blinked, looking down at the face so similar to his own that was smiling back at him cutely. He couldn’t help but reciprocate the expression.

[Hi.] He signed, his hands a little shaky. [I’m Mitch.]

[Hello, Mitch.] The Racing Driver signed. Mitch’s face broke into a bigger smile. [It is lovely to meet you.]

[Likewise.] Mitch beamed, thrilled that he had managed to communicate to his Driver.

The pair of them were led out towards the reception desk to fill out the rest of the paper work. Mitch found his Racing Driver had a tendency to stand very close to him; something he thought would bother him but didn’t actually bother him in the slightest. He filled in the paperwork, feeling like his Racing Driver was watching what he was doing with curiosity. He’d love to know what he was thinking.

“You need to give him a name.” The woman behind the desk said, tapping the box with her finger. Mitch looked over at his Racing Driver.

[What is your name?] He gestured, cocking his head to the side a little. The Racing Driver just smiled at him, which caused Mitch to frown. There was suddenly an image in his head; of something small and so fast he couldn’t set his eyes on it. A fast, sleek entity. The Racing Driver moved closer to Mitch to watch as he put more squiggles on the paper.

[Hare. Is that right?] Mitch asked, after having filled out the paper work.

[Hare.] The Racing Driver gestured. He looked like he was trying to feel the word, closing his eyes as he gestured it a few times. He smiled brightly at Mitch as he opened his eyes. [Yes. Hare is my name.]


	8. Pre-Season 2010 – Red Bull Race Training Facility

He knew she was here somewhere. He had spoken to her before he had matched with Mitch. Mitch was such a lovely match; he cared for him and he sat with him and talked, in gestures, for ages. He would always stay until one of the handlers came along and told him he had to go. Hare really liked Mitch and he loved his human name. He wanted to share it all with him mother but for some reason he couldn’t feel her.

 _Mummy?_ Hare called, reaching out as far as he could. He didn’t seem to be able to find any mare’s minds. Just the other stallions that were with him in the stables. _Rock Rose?_

 _I told you before,_ Hare curled into himself in his room, backing against the wall as the same voice that had spoken to him just before his matching filled his head again. _You are not permitted to talk to the mares._

 _Please, I just want to talk to Rock Rose._ Hare explained, still pinned against the wall. The other Racing Driver filled his head, making him feel like he was a thousands miles away from all the other Racing Drivers again. Just like he had before. _Please, Price…_

_No. You are not lead stallion. You have no need to talk to the mares._

_I will talk to Rabbit then. He can talk to them-_ Hare shrank to the floor as Price filled his head with an oppression. He could barely stand from the weight of it on his mind. _I said you are not allowed to talk to the mares._

_But-_

_-Not even through Rabbit._

_Please, Price. She is my mother-!_

_-You do not speak to the mares!_ Price roared. Hare audible whimpered, curling into a ball on the floor. _Don’t make me tell you again._

_O-OK…_

_And don’t speak to Rabbit about this._

_O-OK._

_In fact, you aren’t to speak to ANYONE about talking to the mares. Understand?_

_…O-O-K…._ Hare whimpered. His mind felt like it was being stretched to breaking point. But within a beat Price was gone, all that was left was a dull ache in the back of his head. Hare remained curled in a little ball, sniffling quietly as he tried to dry his eyes. He was so excited to talk to his mother about Mitch. Why wasn’t he allowed to? Last time he was in the Red Bull Stables he was allowed to live with his mother. What had changed?

 _Mitch…?_ Hare tried gently, toeing his connection with his match human tentatively. He didn’t want Price telling him he couldn’t talk to Mitch. Mitch and he hadn’t shared a telepathic connection yet, at least not a two-way one. Hare wasn’t sure if Mitch could even hear him. _Mitch, are you there?_

There was silence from his match. It made Hare sadder. He couldn’t talk to his mother and now he couldn’t talk to Mitch either. He just wanted someone to hold him and tell him it was OK. Mitch gave excellent hugs. They were just like Rock Rose’s.

If Hare closed his eyes and thought about it hard enough, he could just about remember his mother’s hugs. They were nice and warm and made him feel safe and comfortable. Mitch was capable of doing exactly the same thing.

Hare was scared that Rock Rose would have forgotten him. He hadn’t seen her for a very long time now. Perhaps she had other foals that she loved more than him. Other foals that didn’t get themselves taken away at a young age.

Hare couldn’t shake the sadness off his back, and with Mitch not responding to him he had no one to turn to. Ignoring the other minds around him that were trying to talk to him, Hare shut them all out, curling into his ball of solitude and quietly crying for Mitch.

\- -

Something didn’t feel right. Mitch couldn’t put his finger on it but something definitely wasn’t right. There was this niggling in his head, like he was supposed to do something. Had he forgotten to do something? Or was it something that needed to be done? He was on the verge of going in to ask Mark what he may have forgotten; the niggling wasn’t allowing him to sleep.

It was as if something was tugging at his head right now, begging for his attention. But what that could be Mitch just didn’t know.


	9. Pre-Season 2010, the next day – Red Bull Race Training Facility

“You called him Hare?”

“Yeah… Just kind of… Worked.”

“I know what you mean.” Mark was smirking. Mitch didn’t get it. It was like he’d missed a joke.

“What?”

“It’s just amusing.” Mark shrugged. Mitch raised an eyebrow at him.

“How so?”

“Well, my Racing Driver is called Rabbit.” Mitch grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop.

“You serious?”

“Yeah.” Mark laughed lightly.

“That’s so coincidental.” Mitch smiled, walking on with Mark.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Mark asked as the pair of them headed to the stables. Mitch let out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know… He just seems quite… Clingy.”

“Clingy?”

“Yeah… Are they usually clingy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s always really close to me and if we’re together he doesn’t like to leave my side and sometimes he’s stopped in the middle of training just to gesture something to me…”

“You haven’t had any telepathic conversations with him yet?” Mark asked seriously. Mitch shook his head.

“I keep trying but I don’t know how to let him in or how to get him to let me in. How exactly does it work?”

“I’m not sure, one day I just had a voice in my head and it wasn’t mine. Rabbit seemed as shocked that I’d heard him as I was.”

“Great. So all this time there could be something wrong with him and I can’t hear him.” Mitch sulked.

“Have you taken him for a check-up?”

“I don’t want him to think I think there is something wrong with him.”

“But what if there is?”

“What if there isn’t?” Mitch countered as they headed down to the sleeping quarters. Mark let out a deep sigh.

“I could bring Rabbit to him? See if he talks to Rabbit and then I can tell you what he says?”

“You think that would work?” Mitch asked. Mark gifted him a shrug.

“At least Rabbit can let us know if he thinks he should be checked out. Rabbit will be able to get in his head.”

“I wish I could…” Mitch muttered, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. He let out a defeated sigh. “OK; it’s better than nothing.”

“I’ll go get him and bring him along.” Mark nodded, clapping Mitch’s shoulder before he headed down the corridor to Rabbit’s room. Mitch let out a deep breath before knocking on Hare’s door.

 _It’s me, Mitch._ Mitch thought in vain, hoping that Hare would finally hear him. When he got no reply he frowned at the door. _Hare?_ Opening it, panic shot through Mitch as he saw his Racing Driver curled up on the floor. _Hare!_

Mitch dove to Hare’s side, scooping him into his arms. He tried to dry the tear tracks that were on Hare’s face but more tears kept rolling down his cheeks. He grabbed onto Mitch, hugging his arms tightly around his neck. Mitch wished at this moment, more than anything, that he could telepathically talk to his match.

[What’s wrong, Hare? Are you OK?] Hare was shaking too much to make coherent gestures. [Calm down, buddy. I’m here. I just need you to tell me what’s wrong.] Mitch tried to sign soothingly, but his worry was getting to him. He was relieved when Mark walked through the open door with Rabbit.

“What the…?” The sight that greeted him shocked Mark. He didn’t expect to find Hare inconsolable on the floor.

“Mark, help! I can’t hear him and he’s shaking too much to talk to me!” Mitch begged, looking up at Mark and his match. But something didn’t appear to be right with Rabbit either; his eyes were wide and he was backing out of the room. Mark grabbed his arm in fear, his own eyes going wide.

[Rabbit-] Mark started, but Rabbit shoved his hands away. His eyes locked on Hare on the floor. The older Racing Driver was shaking his head, backing out of the room.

[I can’t.] He gestured, his eyes not leaving Hare. [Mark, I can’t.]

“Mark-?”

“-Rabbit!” Mark yelled, grabbing hold of his Racing Driver’s shoulders. Mark’s eyes are just as fearful as Rabbit’s.

“What’s going-?”

“-I can’t hear him! He’s gone from my head!” Mark yelled, half at Mitch, half at Rabbit.

[Please, Mark. We have to go.] Rabbit gestured, his eyes finally coming off of Hare.

“MARK!” Mitch yelled after Mark’s retreating figure. But it was no use; Mark and Rabbit were gone, clearly not going to be any help in this situation.

 _Mitch…?_ It was so quiet Mitch nearly missed it. His head cracked round to Hare so fast he had a bit of whiplash.

 _Hare?!_ Hare’s eyes widened as he looked up at Mitch. He sniffled, trying to dry his eyes.

After _hours_ of calling for Mitch, Mitch had finally heard him.

 _Mitch!_ Hare said, his smile watery, throwing his arms around Mitch’s neck. Mitch hugged him back tightly.

 _It’s OK, I have you._ Mitch cooed softly, rubbing Hare’s back. Hare tried to dry his eyes on Mitch’s shirt.

 _I want… Mummy…_ Hare whispered in Mitch’s head. Mitch frowned at the wall.

 _Mummy?_ The images that Hare was trying to send to Mitch were too old a vague. It had clearly been a while since Hare had seen his mother. Mitch felt a little sad at that; had he not seen his mother for years he would want to see her too.

 _I’ll see what I can do._ Mitch said gently, holding Hare tighter.

\- -

Once Hare had calmed down enough, Mitch had left him to try and find out some more information about Hare’s mother. Surely if she were here there wouldn’t be a problem with Hare seeing her for a little while? Surely that could be arranged? And it would be for Hare’s benefit. Mitch was sure Mark and he could pull some strings.

 _Where have you gone?_ Hare asked as Mitch made his way to the records room. Every Racing Driver’s records showed who the mare and stallion were that had bred the Racing Driver. Mitch just had to cross-reference Hare’s mare with the list of Red Bull mares and hope the records matched. Then he could talk to Mark about pulling some strings so Hare could go and see her.

 _I’m going to the record room._ Mitch explained, flashing his pass against the door. The red light turned to green, granting him access.

 _What for?_ Hare asked curiously.

 _I’m trying to find out where your mother is._ He explained as he moved towards the section of records that Hare’s file was in.

 _My mare is here, in Red Bull._ Hare said, as if this information should have been obvious. Mitch stopped momentarily as he pulled Hare’s file out of the drawer.

_You know she’s here?_

_Yeah._ Hare said. Mitch flicked through Hare’s file, frowning at that information.

_Well… Can’t you talk to her?_

_No._ Hare said suddenly. Mitch frowned at the wall.

_What do you mean, no? Do you not have a connection?_

_I can’t talk to the mares._

_But why not?_

_It… I…_ Mitch closed the file.

_Hare?_

_I don’t want my mum anymore._ Hare said hotly. This confused Mitch even more.

_Hare-?_

_-I’m not a baby._ Before Mitch could say anymore, Hare had shut off their connection. Mitch gripped at it fro a moment, pulling hard to try and get Hare back to talking to him but it didn’t work. Out of stubbornness, Mitch flicked open Hare’s file, looking down the documents for his heritage. Hare may be saying he didn’t want his mother but Mitch knew differently. His fingers froze as they hovered over Hare’s parent’s names.

_Rabbit_out of Rock Rose._

Rabbit was Hare’s father. At least that might have explained Rabbit’s reaction to seeing Hare.


	10. Mid-Season 2010 – Auckland, New Zealand

It was difficult racing and not being able to stay with his parents. Mitch had gotten special permission to take Hare over to New Zealand to complete their first season of racing together there. It had taken a lot of work during pre-season but they were finally getting their in racing together; the connection between them whilst Hare was in the race car flowing like a seamless roll of fabric.

They were doing well in their first season of racing and everyone was talking about Mitch taking the next step up in racing. It was so weird to be stood in interviews and talking about the race like he had just participated, when really it was Hare’s achievements. Mitch felt like he was cheating; like he was taking credit for everything Hare was doing. But the truth of the matter was they both needed each other to compete in racing series. As much as Mitch wanted to praise Hare in his interviews he couldn’t so as to make sure the Racing Driver and he still lived.

There was a handler with the pair of them at all times, so it meant that Mitch could go off and see his family and friends and someone could take care of Hare. It felt mean and a bit like abandonment, but it wouldn’t have made sense for him to come all this way and not spend some time with his family. He couldn’t even disclose or talk to them about Hare. They may know that there was a special deal that involved Mitch that they couldn’t say no to, but they didn’t know the deal involved a Racing Driver. The less people who knew about them the less people the company had to bribe to keep their mouths shut.

 _Sorry I’m later than I said I would be._ Mitch apologised, walking into their hotel room. The handler sent Mitch a nod before departing to the adjoining room. Mitch opened the wardrobe and let Hare out, helping him take his helmet off.

 _It looks like you had fun with your family._ Hare smiled. Mitch winced a little. Family was always a sore spot for Hare but Mitch couldn’t get him to talk about his mother anymore. It was just something Hare refused to talk to him about. Mitch would never understand.

 _Yeah, nice to catch up._ Mitch nodded, falling back on the bed. Hare copied him, looking up at Mitch as they both lay on their backs. _Dad is super proud of us._

 _Of you._ Hare corrected. Mitch shook his head.

 _He may think it’s me but it’s really you, buddy. So when he gets excited and full of praise for an ace overtaking opportunity,_ Mitch poked Hare in the ribs, making his squirm in a ticklish manner. _It’s really for you._

_He is proud of me?_

_You bet._ Mitch smiled. _But not as proud as me._ He grinned stupidly, ruffling Hare’s hair. _I’m always gonna be the proudest of you._

 _I like that I can make you proud._ Hare beamed. Mitch pulled him close.

 _You know, one day, I’m going to introduce you to my family._ Mitch sighed wishfully. _Then you can really feel what it’s like to have a family proud of you, feel what it’s like to have a family._

 _Your family is wonderful._ Hare sighed contently, happily going through Mitch’s mind for all of his memories about his parents and his siblings. _Simon looks like us!_

 _Don’t tell him that; he’ll go mental._ Mitch laughed, pulling Hare closer.

 _What is photography?_ Hare questioned, bringing up memories of Laura taking pictures of him with her camera.

_It’s when people take photos. Like the press do?_

_With all the flashes?_ Hare hated the flashes. The first time someone had taken a picture of him with the flash he had had to be really brave until he got back to Mitch. It scared him. It was sudden and startling and dazing. He didn’t like the flashes at all. Mitch had been proud of him for being so brave.

 _Yeah. That’ll get worse when we get to Formula One._ Mitch said gently, pulling Hare closer to him. _But I’ll be there to help._

 _Just like always._ Hare smiled, nuzzling into Mitch’s shoulder. Mitch closed his eyes, happy to enjoy his family memories as Hare worked through them.

 _You know, you’re one of us._ Mitch said. This confused Hare.

_One of us?_

_An Evans._ Mitch smiled, looking down at his Racing Driver.

_What does this mean?_

_It means you’re part of my family. The Evans family._

_I am part of a family?_ Hare’s voice was so innocent it made Mitch pull him closer, as if he could force the rest of the world off him.

 _You’re MY family, Hare Evans._ Mitch beamed. Hare couldn’t help but reciprocate.

 _I like your shirt._ Hare said a little later as they started getting ready for bed. Mitch looked down at the blue shirt he was wearing. _It’s a nice colour._

 _You like blue?_ Mitch asked. He’d heard that Racing Drivers preferred things of their colour, this was the first time Hare had displayed this sort of preference. Sheepishly the Racing Driver nodded. _OK._ Hare frowned as Mitch took his shirt off, holding it out to Hare. _For you._

 _It’s mine…?_ Hare asked in shock. Mitch laughed lightly as he held the Racing Driver put on the blue shirt.

_Looks great on you!_

_Of course! It’s my colour!_ Hare revved excitedly, twirling around the room in his new blue shirt. Mitch had never seen him so happy.


	11. Late In Season, 2010 – Hotel Room in New Zealand

“We’re in GP3?” Mitch gasped, looking over at Hare. Hare cocked his head at him, waiting for an explanation. Mark and Mitch had been gesturing during their conversation so that Hare could follow what they were saying but in his excitement Mitch had forgotten.

“I’ve set it up with Horner. We’re running a team together and I’ve told him I want you in one of the seats.” Mark smiled, gesturing as he spoke. Hare pulled on Mitch’s arm.

 _We have a seat?!_ He asked excitedly. Mitch nodded enthusiastically.

 _We have a seat! GP3! We’re going to race all over the World!_ Mitch grinned brightly, bringing Hare in for a hug. He couldn’t believe their luck. This was it; they were on the path to Formula One.

“I’m going to be your boss so you’ll be reporting to me.” Mark explained. “That way I can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re both all right.”

“This is going to be the best!” Mitch said excitedly.

“Well, it’ll be a change from the hotel rooms this year with Hare being in the stables on race weekends, but-”

“-Woah, what?” Mitch’s face fell. Hare frowned at him and his sudden emotional change. “Hare has to stay in the stables…?”

“Yeah, with the other Racing Drivers.” Mark said.

“But… Why can’t he stay with me?”

“This has been highly risky all year. It’s only because you’ve been doing so well you’ve managed to get away with it. Red Bull isn’t happy with this risk and it can’t continue.” Mitch slumped back into his chair. “I thought you were aware of that?”

“Well, yeah. But I just thought with Hare and I managing this so well they’d let us…” Mitch sighed; it was just another reminder of how this wasn’t his to be happy about but something else the Company was manipulating. Mark squeezed his shoulder.

“He’ll have his own sleeping bay in the track stables and you can still see him whenever you want.” Mark look over at Hare who was sat wearing the blue shirt again. He sent a sad look in Mitch’s direction. “You just won’t be able to…”

“I know.” Mitch sulked. He wouldn’t be able to give Hare things like the blue shirt. He wasn’t even allowed to treat his Racing Driver to gifts. Mitch hated it. And he hated the Company for trying to force the hierarchy down his throat. He wished that he could just give Hare a blue shirt. Where was the harm?

“You’ll need to report back to Red Bull at the end of the season.” Mark said, placing a contract down on the table for Mitch. “Remember I’m co-owning the team so… I’ll be there.” Mark pressed. Mitch nodded, looking over the document. “And, there is always a small cottage available for you if you need somewhere to live.” Mark shrugged. Mitch looked up at him. “You know, somewhere not too far away from the stables.”

“You serious? You wouldn’t mind me living with you?” Mitch asked excitedly. Mark grinned, clapping his hand on Mitch’s shoulder.

“It would be my pleasure.”


	12. Pre-Season, 2011 – Red Bull Stables

Mitch was pacing. He didn’t really know what was happening. He just knew that Hare had blocked him out and no one was telling him anything. He had tried getting an explanation, but even Mark couldn’t really explain what was going on. All he’d been told was he had to bring Hare here at nine in the morning sharp. He’d done that and then Hare was taken through a set of double doors.

That was about five hours ago.

Mitch kept trying to reach out to Hare but he just couldn’t find him. Whether he was deliberately being quiet or whether he was being forced to be quiet was unknown, but it was unnerving Mitch. He just wanted to know what was going on and whether Hare was all right. He didn’t think that was too much information to be asking for.

“Mitch?” A woman stepping through the doors broke the silence. Mitch turned to face her, advancing quickly. She held up a hand to stop his progress. “He’s ready for you now. In room three.”

“Room three?” Mitch questioned, but the woman had disappeared through the door without so much as a glance in his direction. Reaching for Hare again, Mitch followed her through the doors, his pace fast as he read the numbers on the doors.

 _Hare?_ Mitch asked as he knocked on the door. He had partially opened it when his match finally responded.

 _Go away!_ Hare screamed. It was enough to freeze Mitch in his entrance to the room. He frowned at Hare’s response.

 _I’ve come to take you back to the stables._ Mitch said lightly. Hare curled tighter into a ball.

_I want you to go away!_

_Hare-_

_-I’m disgusting!_

_What the hell happened?_ Mitch asked, his worry getting the better of him. He pushed into the room, looking down at Hare, curled up on a medical bed in what looked to be a paper hospital gown. _Are you hurt?_

 _I don’t want you to see me, Mitch!_ Hare screamed, trying to shut down their connection. Mitch forced it open.

_No way. You can’t shut me out when you’re like this! Talk to me, Hare. I want to help._

_You can’t!_ Hare sobbed, curling tighter into himself. Mitch wrapped his arms around him securely. _GET OFF ME!_ Hare squirmed and fought to get out of Mitch’s hold but Mitch just held him tighter.

 _I’m helping you. We go through everything together._ Mitch cooed, kissing Hare’s temple after the Racing Driver had stopped trying to thrash out of his hold. Hare was shaking a little as he curled against Mitch’s shoulder.

 _I never want you to go through that…_ Hare spat sharply. Mitch had never heard him so hostile. It really worried him.

 _What happened? What did they do?_ But Hare was shaking his head.

_I don’t want to talk about it._

_Hare-_

_-No, Mitch._ He said, still feeling like he was covered in a layer of grim.

Mitch took him off to the bathroom to have a shower and freshen up. Hare had tried to tell Mitch he didn’t want him to help wash him but Mitch had reminded him he needed his help. Hare seemed fragile, flinching every time Mitch’s hands touched his skin. It just didn’t make sense to Mitch. He didn’t understand any of it and Hare wasn’t talking to him.

 _Here,_ Mitch said, helping him into some clothes. Hare frowned down at the blue jeans that were on his legs.

 _What are you doing?_ Hare asked as Mitch began buttoning up the blue shirt. Once he was done he smiled at his Racing Driver, brushing down his shoulders.

 _Making sure you’re comfortable._ Mitch explained. _We’re not training today._

_But we have to race-_

_-You need taking care of today. So we’ll just relax this morning and go down to the track for a bit if you feel like it later on. Nothing strenuous._ Mitch assured, pulling Hare into a hug. Hare relaxed into Mitch’s hold, knowing that his match would always put what was best for him first.


	13. Mid-Season, 2011 – British Grand Prix, Silverstone

Their season had started out in a good way but Hare’s performance appeared to be slipping. Mitch didn’t understand why; they were training as they always had, the competition was tough but they could definitely beat it. They’d proven that in Spain at the beginning of the season. But Hare was becoming more reserved and within himself lately. Mitch couldn’t work out how to get him out of his shell.

After just missing out on the points for the first race of the weekend, Mitch had had enough of not understanding.

 _Hare, you have to talk to me. I know something is up._ Mitch said calmly as he walked back to the stables with Hare. Hare, with his helmet tucked under his arm, curled into himself more. _What’s going on?_

 _I don’t want to talk about it._ Hare said stubbornly, just as he had so many times before. Mitch rolled his eyes as he opened his sleeping quarters. Hare walked inside closely followed by Mitch.

 _It’s starting to affect you and your racing, Hare. I know how good you are and that’s not showing on track. Whatever this is it’s weighing you down._ Mitch said, taking off his balaclava as he sat next to Hare. He tried to tuck Hare under his arm but the Racing Driver pushed away, moving to the other side of the room. _Hare…_

 _I said I don’t want to talk about it._ Hare shot. Mitch got to his feet.

_Whatever it is it’s hurting you! I want to help!_

_Well I want you to stay out of it._ Hare snapped, storming over to his cupboard. Mitch dropped his head as he slammed the door.

_Hare…_

_Go and do your media things, Mitch._ Hare sulked. But Mitch didn’t leave. Instead he moved towards the cupboard, placing a hand lightly on the door. He closed his eyes and focused. Hare had done this many times in the past to him, Mitch was sure he could work it out.

Instead of just feeling down their connection, Mitch walked down it. It was odd to be stepping into his other half’s mind but desperate times called for desperate measures. Instantly, Mitch felt like he was back home in New Zealand. Whether Hare had deliberately made his mind space like this or whether it was always like this was unknown. The vast space stretched out far beyond what Mitch could comprehend. He looked around the greenery that surrounded him, trying to work out where Hare would be hiding what was bothering him.

 _WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!_ Hare screamed, starting Mitch. Mitch tripped on his own feet, hitting the hard floor of Hare’s sleeping quarters as he fell back onto the floor. Hare was standing above him in a rage, a deep engine purr emulating from his throat. Mitch held his hands up innocently as the Racing Driver stood over him, having burst out of his sleeping cupboard.

_I’m trying to help-_

_-IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!_ Hare yelled, his fists tight. Mitch got to his feet.

_Please, Hare, I’m worried about you. I want to help!_

_What does it matter!_

_Of course it matter! I want to help you, protect you!_

_Well you did a shitty job of protecting me!_ Hare accused, storming across the room. Mitch frowned after him.

_I’m sorry?_

_You took me there! You handed me over to them and let them…_ Hare hunched into himself, closing his eyes tightly as if they would protect him from the memories. Mitch took the chance, closing his eyes and running down his connection to Hare like his life depended on it.

He could not believe what he saw.

 _Hare…_ Mitch’s eyes were wide. How could Red Bull have done that to him. Hare was trying to close the door on the memories but it was too late; Mitch had seen enough.

 _I’m disgusting and horrible and now you hate me._ Mitch managed to grab him before he sunk to the floor, holding him tightly in his arms.

 _No, Hare. Of course you’re not. And I could never hate you._ Mitch cooed. _Why did they do that to you?_

 _It was a stud trip…_ Hare was so disappointed in himself. Mitch was never supposed to know.

_With the purpose of?!_

_I was breeding…_

_Whilst they-_ Mitch couldn’t finish the thought. He felt sick just thinking about it. _You’re only 17._

_Some start studding younger than me…_

_That’s completely wrong._

_That’s the way it is…_ Hare deflated. Mitch hugged him tighter.

_But you’ve done it now. It’s over. Why is it still bothering you?_

_It’s not over._ Hare said, frowning at Mitch like he was crazy. _It’s only just begun._

_WHAT?!_

_They’ll do it again and again whilst I’m still racing and I live at the stable. It’s part of life._

_No it isn’t! It’s forced mating! It’s-_

_-There is nothing you can do…_

_This is troubling you because you know you have to do it again?_ Mitch clarified. Hare shuddered in his arms.

 _Over summer break…_ Mitch couldn’t believe this. He refused to let it happen. He refused to let them force Hare to… No. This wasn’t happening anymore.

 _Well this will be your last trip. Ever._ Mitch said stubbornly. Hare looked round at him.

 _What can you do?_ Hare asked, his confidence in Mitch was weak; he knew how strong the Company was, how fierce Price was. People didn’t oppose him. He couldn’t see a way out of the stud trips.

 _I don’t know._ Mitch said honestly. _But I will find a way._ He knew someone who must be able to help.


	14. Mid-Season, 2011, the next day – British Grand Prix, Silverstone

“Slow down, mate-” Mark tried, but there was nothing he could do to get Mitch to calm down and slow down. The young Kiwi was telling him so much he didn’t know whether the write it down, record it, or ignore him. “-Mitch, I can’t understand a word you’re saying-”

“-They’re using him like a, a… a thing that can be used! And it’s not right!”

“What’s not right?”

“It’s starting to affect his racing, and he’s worried sick about summer break.”

“What’s got him worried? Mitch, track back-”

“-There must be something we can do to stop them doing this! He can’t focus, he can’t race in these conditions. He’s too worried.”

“Alright, take it easy, mate.” Mark said, squeezing his hands tightly on Mitch’s shoulders. The small pain was enough to get Mitch to stop talking. Mark pressed a finger to his lips before Mitch could start talking again. “What’s got Hare worried?”

“He hates it, Mark! Of course he does! You wouldn’t subject your worst enemy to what he’s been through. He doesn’t want to do it again and I don’t want him to!”

“I’m still not sure what you’re talking about. You need to be clear.” Mark said seriously; he could tell whatever it was was seriously upsetting Mitch.

“Stud trips, Mark.” Mitch said, falling back onto Mark’s bed. Mark sent Mitch a frown.

“Stud trips?”

“Yeah, when Red Bull take the Racing Driver’s off too…” Mitch sat up, looking at Mark. “Rabbit must have talked to you about it?”

“No… I didn’t even know he went on stud trips. I’ve never even heard of that before.”

“You kidding?” Mitch pushed himself up on his arms, frowning deeply at Mark. Mark shook his head.

“Sorry, not sure how I can really help. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He must go on them. Hare said all the stallions have to go.” Mark sat down beside Mitch, frowning.

“He’s never said anything.” Mark shrugged.

“He’s Hare’s stallion, Rabbit must go on trips.”

“Wait, what?” Mark interrupted, but Mitch was too lost in his own thoughts.

“Well, then who else can I talk to? Someone else must be able to tell me how I can stop the stud trips from happening?”

“I really don’t know, mate.”

“There has to be someone..?” Mitch was begging. He couldn’t go back to Hare and tell him he still had to go on stud trips. He’d already retired the car today; Hare couldn’t cope with having to keep going on stud trips.

“I’m really not sure who to suggest.” Mitch deflated next to Mark.

“Great…”

“But, if you’re looking for a change…” Mark left the end of his sentence open, inviting Mitch to ask him to continue. Mitch sat up slowly, cocking an eyebrow at Mark.

“What sort of change?”

“There is a group of us,” Mark said, dropping his voice to nearly a whisper. “We want the Racing Drivers to be recognised as their own people. We want them to be able to have a say in what they do and where they live and if they have to go on stud trips.” Mitch said up more attentively. “There is an underground rebellion.”

“An underground-!”

“-Shhhh!” Mark pressed his finger to Mitch’s lips desperately. “You can’t shout about this. We’re waiting for the right time to strike and that’s not yet.” Mitch pushed Mark’s finger away.

“So why are you telling me about this?”

“Cause to bring the company down we need as much evidence on all of this as possible.”

“You’re asking me to help?”

“No.” Mark shook his head. “Way too dangerous. I'm not putting Hare or you in dangers way. I co-brought this team so I could make sure the two of you were protected and safe.” Mark said. “No, I want you to know that it’s not always going to be like this. One day there will be change.”

“But… I want to help. If I can help protect Hare-!”

“-Please, Mitch. I’ve done so much to keep you out of this for so long.” Mark said seriously. “I’m not endangering either of you.”

“Well you don’t have a choice.” Mitch said, getting to his feet. He folded his arms across his chest. “I'm joining the revolution. I want to help Hare. And if you don’t tell me how I’ll find out myself.”

“You’re stubbornness really pisses me off, you know that?” Mark gritted, pulling his phone out of his pocket. But hot excitement spilled through Mitch. He reached out for Hare.

_Don’t worry, Hare. You won’t have to go on any more stud trips. I’m going to make sure of it._


	15. End of season, 2012 – Italian Grand Prix, Monza

Mitch couldn’t believe it. After everything they had been through, after everything that had happened in the last two seasons. After the long conversations to get Hare out of studding trips. They had done it. With Mark keeping a careful watch on them they had gone and won the GP3 Championship. Mitch was giddy, stood at the back of the MW Arden garage as he watched Hare circle in his victory lap. It hadn’t been the win they had wanted to end the season on, but it was more than enough to secure them the title.

It was theirs. They had become Champions.

As Hare parked the car under the podium, all Mitch wanted to do was jump over the metal barrier and pull him into a tight hug. But he couldn’t. He had to stand, disguised with all the other mechanics. He hated that he couldn’t truly show how proud he was of his match. As Hare climbed out of the car, he could see the Racing Driver looking around for him.

 _I’m with the mechanics. Find Mark and hug him, I’m stood next to him._ Mitch sent, sending a tonne of praise down their connection. It didn’t take Hare long to locate Mark, and once he did the Racing Driver ran at him. Mark wrapped his arms around the Racing Driver tightly, allowing Mitch to get close to him. Mitch grabbed Hare’s race helmet, rubbing it affectionately as he send his proudness to Hare straight to his mind.

 _WE DID IT HARE! WE’RE CHAMPIONS! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!_ Mitch yelled, holding onto Hare so tight. Hare broke away from Mark so he could throw his arms around Mitch, squeezing him tightly.

 _WE DID IT! WE DID IT!_ Hare cheered, jumping up and down. Mitch cupped the back of his neck, resting their helmets together.

 _You enjoy this! Enjoy every second!_ If Hare had made it only the podium, Mitch had already decided he was going to let the Racing Driver go and stand up there. It was nothing more than he deserved. He had driven so well this season and done enough to prove he was the best of them all. And he’d rightfully deserved his GP2 seat.

What Mitch wouldn’t have given to have torn his balaclava off and shown the world that it wasn’t him but his amazing Racing Driver who had achieved this incredible feat. The history books would always say that Mitch Evans was the 2012 GP3 Champion but Mitch would always know better. And one of these days he would be able to stand up and tell the World how proud he was of Hare, that Hare was his greatest achievement.

That day wasn’t now, but it was coming. The resistance was going to win.


	16. 2013 – Top Gear Studios

It was the second time Mark had been on Top Gear. The second time for Mark but this was a first for Mitch. He’d been talking to Jeremy a lot behind the scenes, discussing what the resistance needed and where he could help. Mitch knew Mark wasn’t so impressed with how much he was getting involved with the rebellion but Mitch didn’t care. It was his choice and he was putting himself on the line, it wasn’t hurting anyone else.

Jeremy had been happy to have him on the show. Mark had been insistent that he wasn’t front and centre. So he was stood just off Jeremy’s shoulder in the shot. Visible enough to make it clear he was on the rebel’s side, but not clear enough for it to be a clear call out to the FIA. Mark was holding the spotlight, but this wasn’t something new. Mark had been on the show before. His connections with the Top Gear team were already known.

Although the segment may be looking like it was all about Mark really it was about Mitch, and how he was publically declaring his alliance with the rebellion.

Mitch stood tall, looking down at the camera. He wanted the World to know what was really going on. He wanted to stand on the rooftop and scream it out. He wanted to show the company that he wasn’t afraid, that he knew they were doing wrong and he was doing something about it.

He had wanted to put Hare in his place; have Hare stand on national television as a clear stance of his alignment to the rebellion. Maybe even without the stupid coloured contact lenses he had to make Hare wear on race weekends. But even Jeremy had said that was too much of a risk. This wasn’t about exposing the Racing Drivers but about showing his allegiance to the rebels. Then the rebels would know he was part of their team. That he was a friend not a foe.

He thought of Hare. He thought of Rabbit. He thought of all of the other Racing Drivers that Hare had race against and all those that were unmatched and being hidden away in warehouses. It wasn’t right and it was time something was done about it.

Mitch stood tall again, looking at his mentor before looking straight at the camera. He was challenging the FIA, telling them he wasn’t afraid of them, that they couldn’t hurt him. He was going to help get the Racing Driver’s their freedom, and the Company should be afraid of him.


	17. 2015 – British Grand Prix, Silverstone

_Hare? What’s going on? Are you OK?_

_Something is wrong with the car._ Hare returned, his voice still calm even thought clearly something is wrong. He slowed right down coming off of Hanger straight. Mitch moved closer to the television monitors, squinting at the slow moving car.

_OK, bring her into the pits, we’ll try and work it out._

_Something feels wrong near my neck._ Hare reported. Mitch stepped closer to the screen. Something didn’t look right with the car as it came down pit lane. Mitch walked towards the front of the garage, looking out as the mechanics gather around Hare’s car. He wasn’t actually sure he believed what he was seeing. It looked like the cockpit headrest was no longer attached to the car. He’d never seen anything like it in his life.

 _Are you OK, Hare?_ Mitch asked, a little worried. He moved to get close to his Racing Driver as he climbed out the car but someone held an arm out, preventing him from getting any closer to Hare. Hare looked towards him.

 _I think I’m OK._ Hare nodded. _I don’t know what happened._

 _We’ll look into it and work it out._ Mitch said as the car was pushed back into the garage. Hare was lead off, away from Mitch and the rest of the team. _Hare?_

 _He says I’m going to get checked up._ Hare returned, repeating what the handler had gestured to him. Mitch nodded to himself.

 _I’ll meet you in the medical centre._ Mitch said, still scratching his head at the car. How on Earth did that even happen? The cockpit headrest was locked in. It couldn’t just fly off the car. What if Hare had had an accident? Was it not secured properly? If he’d had an accident and it wasn’t secured properly it wouldn’t have protected Hare as it was supposed to. The HANS device fitted to the car near the cockpit headrest. What if Hare had crashed and his neck wasn’t protected?

Mitch pushed the thoughts from his head. They weren’t helping, they were just panicking him. Luckily the device had failed at a point where Hare could get the car back safely. He was fine.

_…M-Mitch?_

_It’s OK, buddy, I’m nearly there._ Mitch said calmly. Clearly his panic had made it to Hare. _I didn’t mean to panic you._

 _No…_ Mitch’s feet shuffled to a stop. _I… I’m i-in… In the stables…_ Ice shot down Mitch’s back.

 _Aren’t you coming to get checked up?_ He’d already turned around and was already heading back down the paddock.

_He wants… W-Wants you t-to come… Come h-h-here…_

_Stay calm. I’m nearly there._ Mitch sent, quickening his pace. He didn’t even bother knocking on Hare’s door, barging through the thing as soon as he got close to it. Mitch froze in the doorway, looking at the sight in front of him. Hare was on his knees, facing the door, whilst a handler held his head back through a tight grip in his hair. Mitch could see him shaking.

“Come in and close the door, Evans.” The handler’s tone was cold. Mitch took a step further into the room so he could slam the door shut.

“It wasn’t his fault! The car failed-!” Mitch started, but the handler was laughing at him.

“You don’t think we know that?” He sneered. “You don’t think we planned for that to happen?” His words sunk into Mitch’s head, confusing the young Kiwi.

“He could have gotten hurt!”

“It was a risk we were willing to take.” The handler shrugged. He tugged sharply on Hare’s hair, making the Racing Driver exert a high-pitch engine squeak. Mitch took a step towards Hare but the handler threw his free hand out to stop him. “There have been some rumours circulating the paddock,”

“Well, rumours aren’t usually that reliable.” Mitch said; his eyes locked on Hare.

“I think this one is a little more… Reliable.” The handler said. Mitch felt the knee in Hare’s side as clearly as the Racing Driver did. He was unable to curl over in pain as the handler still had a tight grip in his hair.

“He’s not done anything!” Mitch shouted, moving closer to Hare. The handler sent a sharp kick out towards Mitch’s legs sending the Kiwi into a heap on the floor. Mitch groaned a little in pain, having been winded by the fall.

“He might not have but _you_ have. And your actions affect him!” Mitch winced as he heard another point of contact with Hare. He staggered back to his feet.

“Please! Leave him out of this! It’s got nothing to do with him-!”

“-It has _everything_ to do with him!” The handler yelled, kicking Hare to the floor. Hare just laid there, panting heavily. “If you want to go around yelling that you’re supporting a rebellion against the FIA then your Racing Driver is going to feel the consequence.” The handler spat, advancing towards Mitch. Mitch back up until his back was pressed against the wall. “I’m talking car failures, crashes, and more little visits like this.” The handler grinned menacingly. “You want him to win ever again? Right now he’s on a fast track to retirement. Early retirement. Maybe in a barrier.” Mitch swallowed forcedly.

 _M-Mitch? What’s happening?_ Hare asked, his voice high and scared. Mitch couldn’t find it in himself to reply.

“This rebellion ends now, Evans. Or your Racing Driver does.” The Handler turned around, stalking back over to Hare. He stamped hard on Hare’s wrist, causing the Racing Driver to scream out. Mitch shot forwards to try and protect Hare but the handler merely turned and threw a punch at him, catching Mitch across the jaw and sending him crashing back down to the ground. He left the pair of them on the ground in pain as he moved over to the door, opening it wide. Mitch shuffled over to Hare, bringing the Racing Driver into his arms.

“Evans,” The handler spat. Mitch glanced at him over his shoulder. “The rebellion?”

“What rebellion?” Mitch muttered, taking Hare’s wrist gently in his hands. Hare flinched away from him as pain shot through him.

“Good boy. You learned fast.” The handler sneered condescendingly before leaving the room. The door slammed to signal he had left.

 _Hare, I’m so sorry._ Mitch started. He didn’t realise he was crying until Hare was trying to dry his eyes.

 _W-What happened?_ Hare asked, his fingers brushing over the bruise that was forming on Mitch’s face. Mitch tried to hide his pain as he focused on Hare’s wrist.

_Do you think it’s broken?_

_What did the handler say, Mitch?_ Mitch didn’t answer, still feeling along Hare’s wrist. It didn’t feel broken and Hare wasn’t acting like it was so painful anymore. He suddenly gasped, dropping his hand from Mitch’s face.

 _I didn’t tell you you could go in there._ Mitch gritted, trying to push everything the handler had just said away from Hare. But it was too late; the damage was already done. Hare had already seen what the handler had threatened; if Mitch continued to support the rebellion they were going to kill Hare. _I won’t let it happen-_

_-No, Mitch! You have no power over them! They are too powerful! They do what they want to us and it doesn’t matter, it NEVER matters! We’re just things and that’s how it is!_

_No, Hare! That’s not how it is! I won’t be like that! I can’t live knowing you’re imprisoned and hurt and all the other shit you have to deal with. You shouldn’t HAVE to deal with any of it! It’s not right!_

_It’s just LIFE! We all have to do things we don’t enjoy!_

_No you don’t! Because you should have the RIGHT to say no! You should have the RIGHT to chose who you mate with! It shouldn’t be forced!_

_Mitch-_

_-I promise, on my life, Hare, I will not let them hurt you. Ever again._

_But he said-!_

_-We just have to lay low._ Mitch said, getting up and fetching the first aid kit so he could wrap Hare’s wrist. He’d take him to get it checked out properly once they had both calmed down. _We let the FIA think we’ve heeded to their warming. We lay low, we play by the rules, we do as they ask. Then when the rebellion is ready we can disappear within it and be safe._ Mitch promised, cupping Hare’s cheeks. _I swear nothing will happen to you. I will protect you._

_You should have listened to Mark. He said you were being to loud._

_I know…_ Mitch sighed. _And I’m so sorry it came to this. If I EVER thought they would hurt you I would have never done anything._ He kissed Hare’s forehead softly, pulling him into a tight hug. _I’m so so sorry…_


	18. 2016 – Marrakesh, France

Mitch had done just as he had said he would. He kept his head down, did what he needed to to protect Hare and make sure they got to this point safely and, most importantly, together. He’d spent the year being the FIA’s perfect match, completely compliant in everything he was asked to do. All the while making sure Hare was perfectly comfortable and safe.

It had been a tense year; with the FIA pulling him from GP2, Mitch had to promise to move across the Formula e so that he could keep Hare racing and keep himself in contact and seeing Hare on a regular basis. But it was only ever temporary. It was never supposed to be forever. He knew that, and Hare knew that. It had been a year and a half of playing the good guys, whilst behind the scenes they were working with the rebellion. Mitch couldn’t be as involved as he wanted to, but it didn’t stop him going over to Mark’s every now and then to help Ann and him with some filing.

The plan was all going perfectly. Mitch had managed to get Hare out of the stables, just like when they were racing in New Zealand. It was done under the guise of a media-filming day for his ‘new team’ Jaguar in Formula e. Really, it had been set up by the Grand Tour crew and Mark. Ben Collins had phoned Red Bull, telling them that before the Formula e race in Marrakesh Mitch and Hare were needed for a filming day. He asked for the permission to pull them under then name of a FIA executive.

There was no filming day. Instead, Mitch and Hare had two days to get to their safe location before the FIA even realised that they were missing. The FIA would then waste time questioning the handler who booked the filming day about where they had gone, but obviously the handler would have no idea about the filming day as he never booked it. That gave Mitch and Hare three to four days to completely disappear. Then they were just waiting for Mark’s text on Grand Tour day to assemble at the meeting point, where they would be reunited with Mark, Rabbit, Fernando, Alondra, Timo, Mannschaft, Brendon, Kiwi, Carlos, and Fili to go into hiding until it was safe enough for them to rejoin society.

 _And no one can find us?_ Hare was panicking. Mitch took both his arms in his hands, rubbing them soothingly.

 _We have moved hotels three times already. Tomorrow we head across to Italy, then we’re in Austria and we wait there for Mark to contact us._ Mitch assured. _No one knows where we are, not even the Grand Tour crew. We’re invisible._

 _They could still find us. The FIA are everywhere._ Hare said, pulling the sleeves of his long sleeve blue top over his hands. Mitch sat him on the bed.

 _They won’t find us, Hare. They don’t even know we’re missing yet._ Mitch tried to sooth, stroking Hare’s cheek. The events of the 2015 British Grand Prix weekend were still fresh in their minds. Hare frequently had night traumas about it, which had forced Mitch to move closer to the stables so he could be there if Hare needed him. Mitch knew he had to get Hare out from under the FIA; always being there made Hare confident they were going to hurt him again. Hare didn’t deserve to live in that fear. That’s why Mitch was taking him away.

Continuing to try and sooth Hare, Mitch returned to packing their bags. He’d been to a local shop and purchased all of the blue clothing he could find for Hare, much to the Racing Driver’s pleasure. It had distracted Hare for about an hour as he worked through what Mitch had brought him, trying them all on until he settled for the long sleeved blue top and some blue jeans, finishing the look with an oversized blue beanie on his head.

The rest of their cash is stashed away in a money belt in the bedside table. He has already changed his phone over, now the old flip phone sat waiting to be used with his iPhone lost in the bottom of his bag. He won’t be needing it for a long time. The keys to the car Mark left for him in Marrakesh, a red Volvo, are sat next to his phone, ready to be grabbed at any needed moment. Feeling like he had accounted for everything, Mitch zipped up the bags, dropping them by the door. He took a seat next to Hare, pulling him in for a hug.

 _How about we try and get some rest, yeah? We have a long day tomorrow._ Hare nodded, getting to his feet. He looked between the bed and the cupboard, as if trying to make the decision as to where he should sleep.

 _You’re welcome to share with me again._ Since they ‘went invisible’ Hare had appeared to need to be closer to Mitch more so than he usually did. It had lead to him sharing the bed with Mitch the night before, content to be snuggled in his arms for the night. Hare gave the cupboard one more look before he sat back down on the bed.

 _Are we meeting Lynx and Alex?_ Hare asked as Mitch started tucking him into the bed. Mitch sent him a sad look.

 _They’re at the Williams stable._ Mitch said gently. He stroked a hand through Hare’s hair. It was longer than his now; the grooming opportunities having been missed in the stress of trying to stay hidden. With his grey eyes and slightly lighter/longer hair there was starting to be some clear differences between the pair of them. _I’ll talk to Mark; if there is a chance we can go and get them I’ll do it for you._ Mitch promised. _Now, sleep._ Turning out the light, Mitch climbed into bed beside Hare, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Hopefully Hare would sleep for at least a couple of hours; they had a lot of travelling to do in the morning.

Mitch wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep but he was startled away by the pinging of his phone on the bedside table. Blindly and sleepily he reached over Hare to grab it, squinting at the bright screen. He read it twice more before he sat up, still confused.

 _What is it?_ Hare asked as Mitch threw back the duvet and got out of bed. He turned on the main light, still frowning at the phone.

 _It’s Mark._ Mitch said. _It appears the Grand Tour has gone live early._


	19. Grand Tour Day, 2016 – Secret Meet Up Location

Hare had been uncharacteristically quiet. Mitch glanced at his matched driver, sitting in the seat beside him and looking out of the door window. His eyes were focused on the flash of street lamps that zoomed above their heads. Stifling a yawn, Mitch reached for the can of Red Bull that was sat in the cup holder between them, subtly rubbing his eyes.

 _You are tired._ Hare made Mitch jump at his sudden appearance in his head, causing the Kiwi to splash Red Bull onto his jeans. He sent Hare a quick glance, seeing that the Racing Driver was now focused on him instead of the flashes of light.

_I’m OK._

_I can drive, if you like?_

_We’re nearly there._ Mitch said; making sure his appreciation of Hare’s concern for him was clear in his message. Hare gave him a small nod, turning back to look at the lights flashing above his head. _Are you OK?_

 _I have never seen the lights before._ Hare explained, still looking up at the streetlights. _They remind me of the photographs and the camera flashes._

 _Not quite so intimidating._ Mitch smiled.

_They are settling._

_Yeah?_

_Yes. They represent speed._ Hare was transfixed. He was beautiful to watch, awe-filled. Mitch had to keep reminding himself to keep his eyes on the road. _We are nearly there?_

_About five minutes._

_Ok…_ Hare took a long deep breath. Something else Mitch hadn’t seen his Racing Driver do in a long time. He was nervous and anxious. _Who will be there?_ Mitch had already told him but he recognised the nervous energy around Hare. It was quite likely he hadn’t really been listening the first time.

 _No one new._ Mitch assured. _Rabbit will be there, and Alondra and Fili. And Mannschaft and Kiwi will be there also._

 _I like Kiwi._ Hare smiled. If Rabbit wasn’t around it was always Kiwi that Hare looked for. _And Fili will be there too?_

 _Yeah. He’ll give you one of your special hugs._ Mitch beamed. He could feel the tension oozing out of Hare beside him.

 _I like Fili’s hugs… And Rabbit’s._ The other racing drivers seemed to know exactly how to care for Hare, to make him feel calm and relaxed. Hare had always been terribly nervous in new situations and meeting lots of new people. Mitch was glad that, as hectic as the day was going to be Hare would be surrounded by the people he knew and loved.

A few minutes later, Mitch pulled up the red Volvo XC90 into the car park they were all supposed to be meeting in. He turned the car off, dropping them into darkness. The cool night air seemed to instantly flow into the car but Mitch wasn’t paying attention to it. He lent into the back of the car, reaching for his bag.

 _Are you cold?_ He asked Hare, already pulling a blue jacket out of one of the bags. Hare didn’t answer, he just gratefully took the material from Mitch wrapping it around himself.

 _You said this is early?_ Hare questioned. Mitch nodded.

_Yeah, we were supposed to be meeting up in a week._

_Why has the plan changed?_

_I don’t know…_ Mitch was nervous that something had gone wrong. If he had to, he would take Hare off into hiding himself. They would make it work. He had to keep Hare away from the FIA, especially now. They’d gone too far against the company to ever go back.

 _Someone is coming._ Hare said, looking over at Mitch. Mitch strained to hear a car engine but he couldn’t hear anything. _It’s Rabbit._ Hare explained. He closed his eyes, focusing on what the older Racing Driver was telling him. _Just Rabbit. He’s alone with Mark. Something has gone wrong._

 _This is early; everyone has been caught out._ Mitch explained. But if something had gone wrong on their side of things, that was a worry. Mitch climbed out of the car as soon as he saw the other set of headlights. Mark pulled to a stop in front of their car, his headlights picking up Mitch and Hare as if they were in spotlights. The Australian clambered out of the car, rushing over to Mitch and Hare.

“Are you two OK?” Mark asked, his tone panicked. Mitch squeezed his shoulder.

“We’re OK. We’re safe. We’re here.” Mitch assured. Mark let out a long breath.

“It’s all fucked up! All of it! The whole plan has gone to shit!”

“Should you be driving like this?” Mitch asked, a little concerned.

 _Rabbit says he has been driving. It’s not as fun as the track but Mark was telling him to go fast._ Hare sent Mitch a cheeky grin. _So sort of fun._

“What’s happened? Where is everyone else?” Mitch asked, watching Mark as he began to pace.

“Fuck knows! They could be anywhere! I’m going to fucking kill Clarkson!” Mark yelled. Mitch stopped him pacing.

“How about calm down and keep your voice down,” Mitch insisted. “We’re not supposed to be here with two Racing Drivers that look like us, let’s keep it that way.”

“Yes, sorry….” Mark sighed, sitting on the front of his car.

“So Fernando is…?”

“Fernando went to Ferrari. He was with me and he fucking left with them. Clarkson cornered him, told him he had to go. All that after the fucker told me Fernando and Alondra would be clear to come with me. Apparently Seb was supposed to go to Ferrari but ran off? Could be bollocks, I don’t know.”

“And everyone else?”

“Not sure now. Could be anywhere. I know Brendon and Timo were at Volkswagen but whether they got out, got rounded up or one of each I don’t know. Neither of them are answering their phones.”

“How long do we wait?”

“We don’t. We can’t. It’s too risky to be in the open with these guys for too long.” Mark said, pointing to the two Racing Driver who were having their own conversation.

“And Carlos?”

“No update. No idea. I don’t know if the Grand Tour have started their stable raids yet but I sure hope they have otherwise doing anything was pointless.” Mark let out another deep breath, running a hand over his face.

“OK. So we can’t stay here, we need to get these guys hidden. So what’s the plan?”

“The plan carries on as it was but now just with two of us. We’re going to head to the safe place and work out what’s happening from there.” Mark said, getting off the front of the car. “Let Hare drive; you look knackered.” Mark directed as he climbed back into the passenger seat of his car. Hare moved back to Mitch as Rabbit climbed in beside Mark.

 _What’s happening now?_ Hare asked, cocking his head to the side a little.

 _Now, we’re following Mark._ Mitch said, throwing Hare the keys. It was all about keeping Hare safe. And even though Mark’s plan had dissolved in front of his eyes, what was left of it was the safest bet they had.


End file.
